


"I... I lost the baby" - Robert + Aaron (prompt)

by BoleynC



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, because it is cute as hell, have robron as new parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoleynC/pseuds/BoleynC
Summary: Robert loses the baby. Literally. In Mill Cottage somewhere.





	"I... I lost the baby" - Robert + Aaron (prompt)

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was simply: "I... I lost the baby" 
> 
> So have some Robert and Aaron as new-ish parents!

Robert hasn’t been sleeping. His hair is up at all angles, the shadows under his eyes are purple. Aaron often walks into a room to find his husband standing there staring into space like he can’t quite remember what year it is or how he came to be in this surreal situation. It’s been nine months of having Robert’s baby son in their lives and every second has been a whirlwind. 

As Aaron wanders down the stairs having come home from work and showered, Robert turns to him slowly. He looks both horrified and baffled at once. 

“Robert?” 

“I… I lost the baby.” 

Aaron’s instinctive reaction is to burst out laughing because how do you _lose_ a _baby._ But then he looks from Robert’s stricken face to the changing mat on the living room floor and realises that actually, yes, okay, there is no baby there. They are currently missing a child. 

“How the hell did you manage that?” Aaron demands, already beginning to search the room. 

“I went to get nappies from the bathroom and he was gone,” Robert answers, looking dazed. 

“Well he can’t have got far. He’s not even walking yet,” Aaron says reasonably, getting down on his hands and knees and ducking down to look under the sofa. “How many times do I have to tell ya? You can’t just go and grab something. He’s like the bloody Mo Farah of babies.” 

“Rebecca is going to kill me.”

Aaron ignores his dramatic husband and checks all of the baby’s favourite hiding places. He’s not behind the sofa. He isn’t crawling about under the spiral staircase. He’s not trying to climb up and commandeer the Vespa. 

Aaron finds him as soon as he goes into the kitchen. He crouches down and comes face to face with Robert’s son. There he is, a triumphant little grin on his freckled face. He’s chewing his own chubby foot as he gazes proudly out from under the kitchen table. 

“What are you doing here, mate? Eh?” Aaron asks, reaching in to scoop him up. 

He hears Robert sigh with relief behind him. 

“I'm telling you, there’s _no way_ he got from the living room to the kitchen in the time it took me to get nappies,” Robert insists. 

“Proper proud of himself as well,” Aaron remarks as he gazes into the toddler’s mischievous little face. The baby beams back at Aaron like he knows exactly what he’s done. “You like scaring your dad half to death, do ya?” 

“God, I need sleep,” Robert remarks, sinking back onto the sofa. 

“How do you think Rebecca feels?” Aaron points out, carrying the baby back into the living room. “She’s had him all week.” 

“Yeah, well she’s got Chrissie, hasn’t she?” 

Aaron’s about to respond when he makes a face and almost retches. 

“Er, he’s left you a gift as well,” Aaron informs his husband, holding the baby at arm’s length. 

“I was about to change him!” 

With no sympathy whatsoever, Aaron dumps the kid in Robert’s lap. 

“Here ya go. Enjoy.” 

“God, he stinks,” Robert comments, as his son gazes up at him with butter-wouldn’t-melt green eyes.  

“If you don’t change him quickly, he’s gonna leak.” 

The thought of that horrendous prospect is enough to get Robert back in action. 

“Come on then, you little demon,” he says tiredly, placing his son down on the changing mat and arranging his kicking legs. 

Aaron takes Robert’s vacated seat on the sofa so he can watch over proceedings. Sometimes Robert needs a few encouraging words, especially when the nappy won’t do up and he ends up covered in something unpleasant. 

“We shouldn’t have had him down here when we were watching Fast and Furious,” Aaron remarks. 

“Do you think you’re Vin Diesel?” Robert asks his dribbling son as he changes him. He’s only talking, Aaron knows, to distract himself, so he doesn’t abandon his task with horror every few seconds. “Because you could have got Daddy into _a lot_ of trouble.” 

“Wonder where he gets it from?” Aaron asks, mock-innocently. Robert shoots him a glare over his shoulder. 

“No more crawling away from Daddy, okay? Because Daddy is going to lose his mind very soon and probably have a heart attack and die.” 

“You can’t tell him that!” Aaron exclaims, scandalised. 

“Why? He doesn’t understand a word of it." 

“Er, yes he does,” Aaron argues. It’s a familiar debate. Aaron seems convinced that the baby understands more than he lets on, that he’s spectacularly gifted somehow. Robert refuses to buy into that notion, even if he does secretly think his son is a bit special. “We were having a proper chat about cars the other day.” 

“And what was his contribution?” Robert asks, finally doing up the nappy and tying up the disgusting nappy sack beside it. 

“Well, mostly trying to chew my jumper, to be fair,” Aaron admits. “But he knew what I was on about. Didn’t ya? Yeah. That’s right. He’s my little mate, aren’t ya?” 

As if on cue, the baby lets out a shriek which could almost be agreement. Robert picks him up but he squirms in Robert’s arms. He’s reaching out his chubby arms to Aaron, not bothering to disguise his favouritism. 

“Why does he prefer you to me?” Robert deadpans. 

“Because he’s smart,” Aaron answers with a grin as Robert hands his son over. He watches as the baby nestles comfortably against Aaron, clearly at ease. 

“Don’t let him near your keys this time,” Robert says as he sits down beside Aaron on the sofa, draping an arm around his shoulders.

“Boy racer, aren’t ya?” Aaron says to the baby. “We could have the next Schumacher on our hands.” 

“I think we’ve got a few years yet.” 

“Hm,” Aaron agrees, as Robert rests his head on his shoulder. “Oi, don’t go dropping off. We’ve still got to do his tea yet.” 

“I need ten minutes. Ten minutes, Aaron, or I’m telling yer, I’ll die,” Robert mutters against his shoulder.

Aaron rolls his eyes at the melodramatics, but decides that ten minutes can’t hurt. 

“Fine. But if me and my little mate decide to sing the red car blue car song while you’re being a lazy pillock, that’s our business.” 

As if he recognises the bad word (or the insult to his father), the baby giggles to himself. 

“Stop playing favourites with our son,” Robert murmurs, already dozing off. 

_Our son._

As Robert snores against his shoulder, Aaron looks down at the baby adoringly chewing his t-shirt and beams.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this then please leave a comment because it means the world! Thanks to whoever left me this prompt! If you have a prompt for me then you can send it to my Tumblr which is: 
> 
> claudiaboleyn.tumblr.com
> 
> Also you can say hi on twitter! I'm @ClaudiaBoleyn
> 
> xxx


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